


dear,

by jangyeeuns



Category: Dreamcatcher (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, and how dearly bora adores yubin, basically a character study on bora and yubin's relationship and dynamic, bora is soft soft soft, hopefully it makes someone feel warm and fuzzy i guess, not really sure if i consider this romantic but take it however you want, there wasn't a lot of like sfw yura so here we are, this is soft and cute and idk, yubin is nonbinary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26658997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jangyeeuns/pseuds/jangyeeuns
Summary: in the space between yubin's own words they hear nothing from her but silence and that doesn't serve well to reassure them at all. their words begin to stumble over one another as they clumsily continue, trying not to let their voice waver as much as it threatens to."why don't you like me?"
Relationships: Kim Bora | SuA/Lee Yubin | Dami
Comments: 12
Kudos: 61





	dear,

fading sunlight filters into the hotel room through the thin slivers in the closed blinds, painting the floor and beds with delicate stripes of light. in the quiet of the evening, yubin traces the shapes with the tip of a finger and tucks their feet up underneath them in an attempt to stop the tapping of their toes against the side of the bed. at the small vanity across the room, bora swipes at the last remaining shreds of her mascara with a makeup wipe before discarding it into the tiny trash can alongside her chair. 

it isn't usually the two of them. it feels strangely silent and that silence is heavy like a thick fog, making it difficult for yubin to breathe without feeling like each breath is louder than the last. usually silence is a friend, a comforting blanket of the softest fabric to wrap up in and feel safe. but now it just feels oppressive, and they aren't sure if that's because it's unlike bora to be this quiet or because all of their nerves are already on fire. a carefully manicured nail picks at the pilled fabric of the comforter and they're far too aware of the soft scratching noise that results from the action. 

she always looks so sophisticated in moments like this. dark hair cascading down her back as she turns her head and sighs, the sharp lines of her profile reflected behind her in the mirror. 

**"unnie,"** they choke out, immediately regretting the decision they didn't really make and wishing they could put the sound of their own voice back into themselves when they see bora's head turn toward them. it's too late of course, too late to put the word back or dampen the train of thought with a slap to the wrist. too late to distract from the stumbling line of thinking. bora looks concerned and maybe that makes it worse, the way her brow furrows and worry paints itself across her features. the empathy there, soft and warm and kind. it makes yubin's tongue trip over itself when they try to say never mind and brush the entire thing aside and under the rug. trip over itself, tumble down a rocky ravine and crash at the bottom in a bloody torn up mess. it would be so easy to speak those two words, but instead what spews out and sprays all across the room like blood spray straight from a major artery is maybe the worst thing possible. 

**"why don't you like me?'**

bora looks offended. of course she's offended, when they'd said something so harsh and blatantly cruel. the concern that was there before is even more pronounced now, obvious even in the dark shades of her eyes. and beyond offended, she looks utterly confused. their heart drops into their stomach and they look back down to the pilling fabric on the comforter instead, as if that will fix the obvious slip up and reset time to before they'd made such a mess of things. it doesn't. their fingernails just pick at each pill a little harder as they try to keep their focus on anything but bora. 

_one, two, three..._ each little ball of lint is flicked aside as they pull it free but bora's gaze is still intent upon them, and they can feel the energy in the room as it presses in to suffocate them. **"what are you talking about?"**

her voice is soft, and they wish with every fiber of their being that they had ended this before it started. cut this conversation short by not saying anything at all. maybe the two of them could just go to bed and never speak at all, and maybe yubin wouldn't make such an awful horrible mistake. they've really messed things up now. and she seems so hurt, that's not what they wanted at all. still, now that they started this they can't very well leave it without any kind of resolution so they keep their gaze trained on the bed in front of them and force the words through a tight jaw. 

**"you treat me differently than everyone else."**

bora's expression isn't one that yubin can read easily. it's difficult to parse the meaning and interpret what it might mean - and that scares them. bora is always an emotional person, always loud and obvious and so easy to figure out and maybe that's why she's always felt like a sort of safety net in a world where everything at times feels so uncertain and hard to decipher. she's quiet for a long collection of seconds as her eyes flick over yubin's features and then she nods. it's not a very clear or pronounced movement, just a slight dip of her head in acknowledgement. but yubin gets the feeling that bora doesn't get what they're saying. 

they can hear when she swallows thickly and they notice when her brow furrows and then they look away again and bury their attention back in the pattern of the bedspread and the way the sunlight has moved across it since they last paid it mind. anything to distract from the confusing and uncomfortable fluttering in the pit of their stomach. **"what do you mean, exactly?"**

the softness in her voice is unsettling and works its way through yubin's nerves like a poison, only serving to make them doubt themselves even more than they already had when this all started. it's their turn to swallow, pulling hard at the beaded up fabric on the comforter which suddenly seems to be stuck solidly there and doesn't want to give way. 

**"you said you show affection through... touch."** they feel hesitant even as they speak, but they don't look up to see her reaction. how confused she seems. how offended or angry or how bewildered. the last thing they want is to see something there in her expression that would confirm any of their worries. that she's annoyed with them, that she thinks the concern is stupid or misplaced, that she thinks it a childish thing to dwell on. **"you're so enthusiastic with everyone else but not with me."** in the space between yubin's own words they hear nothing from her but silence and that doesn't serve well to reassure them at all. their words begin to stumble over one another as they clumsily continue, trying not to let their voice waver as much as it threatens to. **"why don't you like me?"**

the silence prevails for a few moments more. a few moments too long. each full of anxious thoughts and trepidation, but after what feels like forever they finally hear her shift in the chair and straighten up, exhaling a breath from her nose as she does so. they think perhaps she is annoyed, that maybe the sigh is one of annoyance with them for being so juvenile and dumb. **"... yubin."** her voice is that same cotton candy cloud soft, like a spring breeze wafting through the branches of the trees on the edge of a field. barely there but noticeable. barely there but there enough to make a difference. the same as a breeze might be suitable to cool down on a hot day, bora's voice makes yubin's entire body feel cold. 

and then they hear her stand up from the chair, and her footsteps drawing closer to them. they don't look up, but they know she's there. right next to the bed. and then on the bed, close to but not touching them; hands folded into her lap. they don't like how long it remains quiet, how drawn out the lull in conversation is or how each passing second seems to burrow under their blanket of comfort just a little more and grow ever closer to arms length - ever closer to being able to reach out and grip their ankle with cold skeletal fingers and pull them out of safety and into terrifying unfamiliarity. they can hear it when bora swallows shallowly, they can hear the breaths she exhales from her nose and the shifts in her posture as she adjusts her position. 

**"it's not like that."** the tone of her voice should be reassuring. the warmth and kindness there, the way they can feel a thick layer of affection and compassion coating it. but it feels like a trap. it feels like the sugar coating on a bitter pill, like maybe if they peeled away all that emotion they would find something else underneath; something jagged and cold and ready to shred their unsuspecting fingertips apart if they try to touch it. it feels like a lie. they feel the air ghost across their skin when she reaches out as if to touch them but pulls her hand away at the last second and tucks it back into her lap. they feel the mere centimeters her fingertips come within, the way she freezes when they flinch, and the gaping absence when they're gone again. she hasn't even touched them and yet it feels as though she's burned their skin. 

their nails cut into their palm as they fix their gaze onto the comforter and try to pretend nothing happened, but their hands shake with the effort. 

she doesn't break the silence fast enough. it feels like torture as the seconds tick along, fraying each of their nerves in turn and setting their veins on fire one by one. before long they feel as though their entire body is on fire and the flames lick at the inside of their throat as they open their mouth, burst forth in a dragon's exhale of: **"then what is it?"**

the smoke that follows their words chokes them mute and a shock of pain from the inside of their palm brings them to the realization that their nails have broken skin. as bora inhales again behind them they turn their hand down to hide the smudge of blood on the tender flesh there and try to smother the flames with reminders that they're safe here. 

**"it's like..."** they're only half listening to her, waiting for some empty excuse or some stupid reasoning. for her to simply tell them she's forgetful or that the others just make it easier, that it's all happenstance and chance and some huge cosmic lottery that it's always one of the others and not them. as anxiety roots itself in their heart and takes hold of their thoughts and actions like fast acting poison they can hear the blood rushing in their ears and feel the thunderous pounding of their heart against a cage of ribs that suddenly seems too small and too fragile. even though they can't see her they can imagine the way she looks; head tilted thoughtfully to one side, teeth bearing down on her bottom lip, eyes dark as she's lost in thought. **"you know, when we order dinner as a group and sometimes we have to get a couple different things because not everyone likes the same things?"**

it's their turn to be confused now, brows furrowing as they try to parse and figure out what she could possibly mean by that; how that could even begin to relate to the conversation at hand. they don't respond to her, focused instead on the way their palm has become sort of slick with blood - but only a little bit. but they don't need to respond anyway, because she goes on. 

**"i wouldn't... deliberately get something for someone if i knew they didn't like it."** they turn their attention to her but not their gaze; choose to no longer try to distract themselves from her words or remove themselves from the situation because it isn't often that she sounds this thoughtful, it isn't often that she takes up such a heartfelt tone or chooses her words this carefully. the flames burning within them quickly die down to glowing coal and ash warm in the pit of their stomach. **"it's like that."** she says, and they think maybe they kind of get it. maybe they sort of understand. **"i wouldn't do something to you if i know you don't like it."**

out of the corner of their eye they can see the shift, her hand moving to rest on the bed beside their leg. an invitation, but nothing too demanding or forceful. it feels careful and gentle and tender and soft, the opposite of everything that bora usually is in all her affection and energy and brazenness. that makes it all make more sense, even if she hasn't said it in full or out loud. her hand there looks like a lifeline in an ocean of uncertainty and they reach for it with only a brief moment of hesitation because they feel as if they might drown without it. they can't see it when she smiles but they can feel it, the slight quirk up of her lips.

there's quiet for a few moments longer, but this time it doesn't feel as oppressive as before. this time it feels cozy and warm and they gently wrap their fingers around bora's and give a small squeeze to help ground them. 

**"liking someone means understanding them."** she says, and that seeps into their skin and warms all the cold parts of them and melts away the ice and soothes the burning all at once. her thumb brushes gently over the top of their hand and it feels like that simple motion begins to brush away all of their fear and insecurities as well, reassuring them that her words are truth and they're at home here. it feels good, knowing that she's paid such close attention to them. that she's learned their ins and outs in such a way that she would be able to tell when they want to be touched and when they don't, that she cares enough to take that into account and keep it in the back of her mind. for the first time since the conversation's start they raise their gaze and meet hers, and their smile is met by dark but sparkling eyes and a warm expression. **"and i like you a lot."**

as warmth rises in their cheeks they duck their head back down but this time it's so they can rest against her and nestle their head into the place where her shoulder meets her neck. it feels like a haven, like the safest most sheltered place in the world. 

**"i like you a lot too, bora."** the words are a little muffled by the way their mouth presses against her shirt but they know she'll hear and understand. there's a gentle squeeze of bora's fingers around their own in response and she nuzzles her head into theirs. the last rays of light are vanishing from the hours of day and the only thing shining through the blinds now is moonlight and the streetlights below. anxiety quelled at least for the moment, yubin feels overcome by fatigue and drowsiness, drawn in and wrapped up in the haze of safety and comfort that bora has created with her simple words of reassurance. **"can i sleep here tonight?"** they ask, and there are only a few seconds of pause before they feel her nod in reply, feel the puff of air from her nose as she laughs. even without saying anything the response is enough to draw up a warm glow from deep inside their chest and they find themselves mumbling only partially audible words against her shoulder. **"maybe i love you."**

she nods again. if they were more awake they'd pick apart her movements, pick apart the pause between the motion and her voice and think that maybe she can't decide if she should say it back or leave it in silence. if maybe that would be too much, or if it's not enough. but in the cozy clouds of comfort they only feel the gentle way she pulls them in closer and the halo of her voice around them as she speaks up softly and deliberately. **"i love you too.'**


End file.
